


Born Which Way

by santana-lopez (nightshifted)



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-21
Updated: 2011-10-21
Packaged: 2017-10-24 20:09:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/267380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightshifted/pseuds/santana-lopez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The white t-shirt pulls against Santana's torso like a summer night that's too humid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Born Which Way

The white t-shirt pulls against Santana's torso like a summer night that's too humid. It sticks to her skin, confining her. She crosses her arms over her chest, a feeble attempt to cover the black, bold letters printed across her chest.

Nearly everyone had filed out of the auditorium, even Karofsky, who'd glanced at the word _LEBANESE_ and had seemed more interested in exactly what it'd meant rather than the perky twins on her chest. She still has reservations about the guy in general, but it'd been nice not to feel objectified by someone she has zero interest in.

A body slides into the seat next to hers, and she doesn't have to look to know who it is. Santana fights the instinct to move closer.

"You wore the shirt."

Santana looks down, uncrossing her arms. "Yeah."

Brittany reaches over to smooth out the front of the shirt, her fingertips warm through the fabric. Santana resists the urge to squirm as Brittany looks thoughtfully at the letters. "I think I spelled it wrong though."

Santana nudges Brittany's hand away gently. "Yeah, well, I don't think I would've been ready to wear it if you'd spelled it right," she admits quietly.

"Oh." It sounds like disappointment, and Santana quickly turns away, feeling her heart twist in her chest.

"Brittany," she says softly, tossing a quick look around the empty auditorium before meeting her eyes. "I know who I am. I do. I just need some time." She bites her lip. "And I don't know—I can't go through with all this right now and not have you at the end. I can't."

"I'm with—"

"Artie. I _know_." Santana takes a deep breath to soothe her nerves. "And you don't want to hurt him, I get it. It still fucking _sucks_."

She reaches for Brittany's hand but stops abruptly in the air and recoils, returning it to her lap. A moment later, Brittany's fingers slide deliberately over Santana's, and she rests it there. It prickles where her skin makes contact, and she twitches with the memory of Brittany's warm body pressed against hers.

Santana swallows hard, suddenly fighting tears. "Look, the moment I'm out of this cow town, I'll scream it from the rooftops. I just can't handle the rest of the school knowing right now, or my family. God, do you even know what my parents would do to me if they knew? They're not like Kurt's dad or Finn's mom or your parents." She uncrosses her legs and sits up straighter. "I'm not ashamed, Britt. I'm terrified, but I'm not ashamed. I just can't risk getting kicked out or harassed. I have to protect myself first."

"But baby," Brittany murmurs, her fingers curling around Santana's, "you were born this way."

Santana laughs softly. "Brittany, the lesson is—the lesson is great and everything, but this isn't like not being able to dance, or having brown eyes. The consequences are far greater."

"I understand." Brittany rises from her seat, pulling Santana with her. "Come on."

Santana smiles faintly. "Where are we going?"

"On the stage," Brittany explains, guiding Santana up the steps. She squeezes Santana's hand encouragingly, seeming to sense her hesitation. "Nobody's around. Just you and me."

Brittany's earlier words echo in Santana's mind: _Clearly you don't love you as much as I do or you'd put the shirt on and you'd dance with me._

Santana laughs against the lump forming in her throat. "Thank you," she whispers.

" _My mama told me when I was young…_ " Brittany starts singing, guiding Santana through the first few steps of the dance.

Santana follows along, recalling the movements from rehearsal. She takes a deep breath and joins in, " _We are all superstars…_ "

_fin_


End file.
